On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells, 
 Could I describe her shape and mien! 
Our lasses a' she far excels--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

She's sweeter than the morning dawn, 
 When rising Phoebus first is seen, 
And dew-drops twinkle o'er the lawn--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

She's stately like yon youthful ash, 
 That grows the cowslip braes between, 
And drinks the stream with vigour fresh--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

She's spotless like the flow'ring thorn, 
 With flow'rs so white and leaves so green, 
When purest in the dewy morn--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

Her looks are like the vernal May, 
 When ev'ning Phoebus shines serene, 
While birds rejoice on every spray--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

Her hair is like the curling mist, 
 That climbs the mountain-sides at e'en, 
When flower-reviving rains are past--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

Her forehead's like the show'ry bow, 
 When gleaming sunbeams intervene, 
And gild the distant mountain's brow--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem, 
 The pride of all the flowery scene, 
Just opening on its thorny stem--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

Her bosom's like the nightly snow, 
 When pale the morning rises keen, 
While hid the murm'ring streamlets flow--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

Her lips are like yon cherries ripe, 
 That sunny walls from Boreas screen: 
They tempt the taste and charm the sight 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

Her teeth are like a flock of sheep, 
 With fleeces newly washen clean, 
That slowly mount the rising steep--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

Her breath is like the fragrant breeze, 
 That gently stirs the blossom'd bean, 
When Phoebus sinks behind the seas--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush, 
 That sings on Cessnock banks unseen, 
While his mate sits nestling in the bush--- 
 An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een! 

But it's not her air, her form, her face, 
 Tho matching Beauty's fabled Queen: 
'Tis the mind that shines in ev'ry grace--- 
 An chiefly in her rogueish een!